


Those Who Hunt Us

by static_abyss



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Gen, Guns, Implied/Referenced Character Death, The Argent Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-17 22:19:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3545807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/static_abyss/pseuds/static_abyss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Chris Argent was young, his hero was his father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Who Hunt Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chef_Geekier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chef_Geekier/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Ticket to Anywhere](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2646152) by [Chef_Geekier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chef_Geekier/pseuds/Chef_Geekier). 



> I loved the idea of a disillusioned Chris Argent. This is my take on that. 
> 
> Many thanks to my beta, M, who always finds time to read over the things I write. Any and all remaining mistakes are mine.

When Chris Argent was young, his hero was his father. 

Chris was older now, and Gerard knew that it had been a long time since he was anyone's hero. Still, Gerard felt a surge of affection for his son even as he stared down the barrel of Chris's gun.

" _I raised you well,_ " he wanted to say.

Because Gerard had raised his children to despise monsters no matter what, and Chris had finally learned that lesson.

"Pull the trigger, son," he said, exhaling through the pain that the mountain ash had caused. 

Chris looked at him, face carefully blank in a way that let Gerard know this was still causing his son a great deal of pain. Gerard watched his son, waited for the last words he would ever hear from anyone.

They never came.

***

"We're changing the code," Allison said.

She stood in front of Chris, seventeen years old, and already so worn down. Chris remembered that there was once laughter in her eyes, carelessness in the slope of her shoulders. She was just a teenager before Peter Hale, before Gerard, before her mother. Now, Chris sees his future leader, the next generation of the Argents.

He is proud of her.

"Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas protéger eux-mêmes," she said, in accented French.

A part of Chris felt a pang of sadness at the accent. The Argents were an old French family, years of history stored in records some of them still kept in France. Their home country was France, and though Gerard had been born in America, he had taught his children love for their old home country. 

Allison had never been to France. She didn't know about the passageways underneath the old Argent home. She'd never sat outside when the moon was full and listened to Aunt Maurine's stories about werewolves. Allison hadn't trained with Uncle Jacques. She hadn't, and wouldn't, know what it was like to be tied up in the wolf woods on a night of the full moon. 

Chris had never told her about the family, but she stood in front of him and spoke to him as though she knew anyway. 

"We protect those who can't protect themselves," she said.

Allison wasn't her mother. Victoria, for all her fierceness, would never have tortured innocent teenagers, no matter what they were. But Victoria, for all her dedication to the code, would never have loved a werewolf. Victoria would not have apologized to Scott, or risked her life to save the werewolves. Victoria believed in hunting those who hunted her. Allison believed in saving.

"It's just you and me, dad," Allison said, and Chris wondered whether there would come a day when that didn't hurt. "We...I don't want to be like grandpa."

And that was what it all boiled down to. It's what made Victoria choose death, what made Allison change the code. It was what had made Chris put the bullet through his father's head. Because Gerard had hurt Allison, because Gerard had used Jackson, because he would have killed Scott, and Gerard might be his father, but Chris recognized a rabid dog when he saw one. 

"You're not your grandfather," Chris said.

Allison stared at him, her gaze unwavering. "Neither are you," she said.

***

The semi-automatic pistol is familiar in Chris's hands. He knows every bump, every smooth surface, the places where he has to pay close attention when cleaning it.

His first handgun had been a Glock 22, when he was twenty years old. He'd known every inch of that gun too, and the one he used after. He knew every gun he sold now, too, knew the kickback, the tricks to them. He'd been raised to fight a war, and so he'd grown to know his weapons. 

He'd fired his first gun at twenty, but had killed his first werewolf at twenty-two. It had been as easy as breathing. He'd hunted omegas, banshees, and even berserkers, and each time, pulling the trigger had been the easiest part of the hunt. 

" _It's because they're monsters_ ," Gerard had said, when Chris finally asked him why. " _We don't waste pity on monsters_."

Chris's gun wasn't any heavier now that he stood in front of his father, and when he fired the gun, it was as easy as breathing.

***

"What happened to him?" Allison asked one day, months after Gerard was dead.

Chris turned to Allison, his automatic, "I don't know," already half-formed. But there was something knowing in her expression when their eyes met. He closed his mouth on his answer, and watched her, waited for her accusations, for her disappointment, waited even, for her relief. 

"Is he dead?" she asked, voice quiet, as though maybe she thought someone would hear them in their new home. 

They had moved to an apartment a few streets away from the high school. Their house had seemed too large with just the two of them, the rooms too filled with memories neither of them was ready to sort through yet. A new home let them pretend that they were moving on. In their new home, they didn't talk about Gerard.

"I don't want to know details," Allison said when Chris didn't answer. "I just want to know that he won't hurt us anymore."

Chris looked at Allison. She was wearing a dark blue dress with large pink and yellow flowers. She'd tied her hair up into a ponytail and it was easier to tell how young she was that way. Her face hadn't sharpened into adulthood yet, and when she ducked her head the way she was doing then, no one could confuse her for anything but a child. 

"Parents are supposed to protect their children," he said.

He didn't say that he felt as though he'd let her down. He didn't say how sorry he was about everything, about Victoria, and Gerard, about Scott, and Lydia, and even Kate. Chris didn't mention how he vowed to never let her down again. But then, he didn't have to, because Allison was looking at him with her wide brown eyes, a sad smile on her face. 

"You have," she said. 

And Chris Argent nodded and vowed that that would always be true.


End file.
